


Boo-Boos and Band-Aids

by snarkymuch



Series: Broken!Verse [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 19:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12514788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkymuch/pseuds/snarkymuch





	Boo-Boos and Band-Aids

Dean lifted the hood of the car and propped it open. A cracked radiator hose had put the Impala out of commission. He needed to pull off the old one and replace it. With any luck, it should only take a few minutes.

With practiced hands, he released the clamp and pulled one side of the hose free. He'd already drained the fluid earlier so it wasn't too messy. Only a little antifreeze dribbled out as he pulled it free.

He reached back and tried to release the other clamp, but it was stuck hard. He struggled with it for a moment and then reached for his pliers. He grabbed the clamp and squeezed. The clamp released but the hose stayed stuck. He pulled as hard as he could and then it happened. His hand slipped free and he hollered in pain as the clamp edge sliced open his hand.

"Son of a bitch!" he shouted.

Dean cradled his hand to his chest as he continued to curse.

"De?" Sam's panicked voice came from the porch steps.

"It's okay, Sammy." Dean grabbed the rag he had set on the engine and pressed it to the side of his hand. He hissed in pain. He knew it wasn't deep, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell.

Sam shook his head and hurriedly made his way down the steps. When he reached Dean, he held out his hand and nodded to it. "Show me."

Dean could see the panic in Sam's eyes, and he knew he had to let Sam see, if only to calm him down.

"It's nothing bad, see?" Dean said as he peeled back the rag and presented his hand to Sam's scrutinizing gaze. "Doesn't even hurt anymore." That was a lie. It still burned and Dean was pretty sure that some antifreeze and washed into when it happened. He needed to go wash it out as soon as possible but he didn't want to rush Sam.

Sam reached out and cupped Dean's hand in his own and turned it so he could see the cut. It gave Dean a chance to see it better, too. It wasn't bleeding much anymore, and maybe it did need a stitch or two, but given it was his right hand that had been injured that wasn't happening. Washing it out and putting a clean dressing on it would have to do.

Sam's brow furrowed as he studied it. Occasionally, his gaze would flick to Dean's and then back down to the cut, as if analyzing how severe it was.

Suddenly, Sam snapped into action, surprising Dean. He gripped Dean's wrist and pulled him toward the house.

"Sammy, what—"

Sam paused to give him a bitch face, cutting him off mid-speech.

"Okay, just be gentle. You're a bit stronger than you think."

Sam eased the death grip on Dean's wrist, but continued tugging him along.

Dean shook his head but let Sam lead him wherever they were going.

Once inside, Sam guided Dean to the table and pushed him to sit in a chair.

"Sammy, I need you to relax. I'm all right," Dean said, holding up his hand. "See, no more blood."

Sam scowled at him and then turned on his heels and disappeared down the hall. Dean pushed himself up to follow, but before he got that far, Sam was returning, first aid kit in hand.

He grabbed Dean's wrist again and pulled him back to the kitchen. Dean rolled his eyes but let himself be led. "Fine, we'll do this your way, Sam."

Sam took him to the sink and turned on the tap. None to gently, he shoved Dean's hand under the water and turned it so the cut was being flushed.

Dean grimaced as the water pushed apart the torn skin.

"Sorry," Sam said, biting at his lower lip. "Be better soon."

Dean nodded. "Yeah or my hand will fall off."

Sam's face contorted and immediately Dean regretted his words. "No, Sammy. I was just kidding, okay? Nothing will happen to my hand. You're doing a good job. Thank you."

Sam swallowed and then turned off the tap. He led Dean to the table and gently nudged him to sit. Dean acquiesced.

Sam sat down beside him and then pulled the first aid kit over. He fumbled with the latch but finally managed to open it. Dean wanted to help him but he knew Sam needed to do this on his own. Carefully, Sammy ripped open a packet of gauze and reached out for Dean's hand.

Dean extended it to him and watched as Sam struggled to carefully pat at the wound. Sam's expression was that of pure concentration, and it made Dean smile. His brows were tightly knit and his tongue was peeking out the corner of his mouth. It was taking all of Sam's skill to tend the wound.

Once Sam deemed it dry enough he reached back into the kit. This time he grabbed a tube of ointment. He struggled with the cap.

"Here," Dean said, reaching out with his good hand. "Let me help you."

Sam pursed his lips and then nodded, handing it over. Dean easily opened it and then handed it back.

Sammy nodded and then using two hands, one to squeeze and one to guide, applied a thick line of ointment. A small triumphant smile touched his lips as he completed the task.

"Good job, Sammy." Dean was impressed. It was taking a lot of concentration for Sam to guide his hands in such precise movements. Even in PT he had never shown such skill.

Sam looked up and grinned. He grabbed the kit and tossed the tube back in before rummaging through.

He pulled out Band-Aid and looked at it, perplexed. Dean knew he needed more than that. He needed a gauze wrapping, but he didn't have the heart to break that to Sam, so instead he just watched him work.

With brows pinched together, Sam held the Band-Aid in front of his nose. His tongue was back, peeking out from between his lips in concentration. He carefully, and oh so slowly, began to peel the wrapper back.

Dean casually glanced at his watch. Five minutes in and the wrapper was still mostly intact.

"Sammy," Dean said. "Do you need help?"

Sam shook his head and gave Dean an adorable version of his bitch face.

"Okay," Dean put up his good hand in surrender. "Just asking."

Sam went back to unwrapping and eventually, after another five minutes, he got it. Sam practically bounced in his seat at the feat.

He peeled back the protective tabs much easier and then, dangling the Band-Aid in one hand and Dean wrist in the other, he carefully placed it over the cut. It didn't even begin to cover it. It was crooked and barely sticking because of the copious amount of ointment, but it was still perfect.

Dean smiled, incredibly proud of his brother. "You did good, Sammy. Thank you."

"You're welcome, De," Sam said. "You're my big brother. I take care of you too."


End file.
